


Soulless Loving

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Bottom!Sam, D/s, Lucifer worries, M/M, Masochism, Soulless!Sam, Sub!Sam, angsty, dom!Lucifer, mentions of torture!kink, top!Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:56:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5866660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer contemplates Sam with a soul and Sam without a soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soulless Loving

**Author's Note:**

> So this was going to be based on a song, "Soul 4 Sale" by Simon Curtis, but then it took a life of it's own and it ended up being a little. . . well, you'll see

Lucifer wasn’t sure how he liked his Vessel without a soul. 

On one hand, Sam without a soul was  _ infinitely  _ hotter. A lot of his filters were gone too, making him speak his mind freely and not care about who’s feelings he hurt. The amount of snark that came out of his mouth made Lucifer swell with lust and pride. 

Sam was more calculating, more willing to do things that his soulful self wouldn’t allow for, enabling him to hunt better, having no morals or values to speak of. 

But Lucifer didn’t like that, at the same time. Sam was gentler with his soul, sweeter almost. Naive, but not quite innocent. And Lucifer loved that about his Vessel. 

Yet, here he was, stuck with a human without his soul. His sweet little naive Sammy Winchester was now without his soul, without his conscious. 

On the other hand, the sex was  _ fantastic.  _

Without those barriers, Sam was open to pain and fantastic, exquisite, torturous pleasure, and he was especially open to receiving it. 

Pain, it seems, made him feel, and not just the physical. It seemed like pain reminded him what it was like to  _ have  _ a soul, and if his body turned into even more of a scarred canvas for Lucifer’s fingers to trail over, then so be it. 

Sam was gorgeous, writhing in pain underneath whatever implement of pain Lucifer decided to use, and the Devil knew it. His ever changing eyes would open wide and squeeze shut tight depending on what was happening, dark red blood painting his tanned skin, his back opening in rips or fine cuts, gasping for breath, ruby red cock standing at attention in painful pleasure, weeping for Lucifer’s touch and pain. 

The orgasms themselves were to die for, quite literally. Lucifer’s not quite sure why the French call it a “little death” when Sam will black out as he colors himself in white surrender across the bloody field that is his body. Sam doesn’t like it when Lucifer heals him. He likes to feel the pain even days afterwards, to know what suffering is, almost to remind himself of what it is like to have a soul, to have a conscience. 

Lucifer knows this, understands this even. In the Cage he often would find ways to hurt himself to make himself feel, and when he was with Michael he’d goad his older brother into hurting him, make him feel closer to his beloved home. But it’s different. Lucifer always had his faults, and they weren’t the best. Prideful, arrogant, selfish. Even without his Grace being twisted, he was those things. 

Sam is those things now, but he wasn’t without his soul, and Lucifer knows this. They both do. 

“Do you miss having a soul?” Lucifer asked one night after a round of pain ridden sex. Sam was on his stomach, still breathing heavy from the spiked flail that Lucifer had used on him, the blood still trickling steadily from his back. Lucifer longed to heal it, but he knew better. 

Sam thought, regarding his lover with glazed green-gold eyes. “Yes and no,” he murmured, still riding his pleasure high. “I miss it because it does allow me to be a better person, does allow me to be human. But I don’t because I can get so much more done, and nothing bothers me anymore. I can hunt and not let emotions get in the way.” He gave a chuckle, dimples appearing on his face. “Besides, the sex is pretty damn awesome without the soul. Much better than with the soul.” 

“Masochist,” Lucifer teased affectionately. He leaned over and kissed the  top of his head. 

“You love it,” Sam retaliated. 

Father help him, he did. 

But that still didn’t stop him from wondering if he should go get his soul back from Hell, from the Cage if at all possible. He had the feeling that the desire to experience pain with the sex would not dissipate, but it would have a darker, sadder reason. 

He knew Sam with a soul liked to experience some pain during sex because he felt like he was atoning for his mistakes, for everything. 

Sam without a soul means he did completely immoral things, without thinking of the empathetic damage that he was inflicting upon the other humans involved- the families involved. He just did what he needed to do. 

Sam’s soul was currently at Michael’s mercy, and Lucifer doesn’t want to think about what would happen if he shoved that thing back down Sam’s throat and said “Have a soul!” again. He knows there are times where he’s nearly catatonic with his own memories of the Cage, and he’s an 

_ archangel.  _ What are those memories going to do to Sam?

It’s not just the memories of the Cage, however. It’s the memories of what Sam did when he was soulless. The amount of risks he took, the casual way he treated peoples’ lives, how casual he was about killing- it would crush Sam if he remembered. And the desire of masochist sex would grow. Lucifer knew that. 

Lucifer’s not sure which would be better- risk Sam’s mental health and give him his soul back, and have to deal with the emotional baggage of having masochist flavored sex with him; or to keep Sam without his soul and give him the feeling of one through the sex, but worry about everyone else around him. 

Lucifer wondered why his Father gave him this responsibility, but as he gently began healing the flayed skin of his lover, he figured it was a way for him to personally atone. 

Sam hissed and groaned, looking over his shoulder. 

“You usually wait longer,” he said. 

“Normally I don’t nearly make you bleed to death,” Lucifer replied, running his fingers over the skin, making sure that the scars were there. Both of them liked to run their fingers over them. 

Sam laughed. “You wouldn’t have let me die,” he said. “You enjoy my body too much.”

Lucifer chuckled and brought Sam in to cuddle. He may not understand the importance of the act, but Lucifer didn’t care as he snuggled right up to the soulless hunter. 

There’s got to be a way to balance the two, he figured as he closed his eyes. 

“Dude. You don’t sleep.” 

“Sam, close your eyes and shut up,” Lucifer grumbled as he nuzzled into Sam’s chest. 

Sam chuckled and wrapped his arms around Lucifer and began idly running his fingers through his hair. “If that’s what you want.” 

“It is.” 

Because it was in these moments that he could pretend that he was holding the man he knew to be his Vessel. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr! lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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